


Brokenly Yours

by skipper



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Abusive Relationships, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, M/M, Manipulation, Verbal Abuse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-28
Updated: 2021-02-23
Packaged: 2021-03-10 06:34:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,874
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27759973
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/skipper/pseuds/skipper
Summary: Next time I'm pissed, I'll aim my fist at the dry wallNext time, there will be no next timeI apologize even though I know it's liesI'm tired of the games, I just want her back, I know I'm a liarIf she ever tries to fucking leave againI'm a tie her to the bed and set this house on fire.
Relationships: Harry Styles & Louis Tomlinson, Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson, Harry Styles/Original Male Character(s), Louis Tomlinson/Original Male Character(s)
Comments: 4
Kudos: 18





	1. Fire and Ice

**Author's Note:**

> What can I say about this? This is extremely dark and toxic, and I have no idea where it came from. Essentially it's all one story, but each part is from different timelines in the relationship between two very broken people. It's a VERY alternate universe and in no way depicts how I believe these two to be. Anyway, hope you enjoy it. 
> 
> Please comment and critique. I'm definitely curious about what you might think.
> 
> I have this marked as complete because it's simply a series of one-shots. I don't even know how many I'll write, but it's at various points in the timeline. Subscribe for updates!

Harry’s exhausted. Twelve hours at the warehouse is too long of a shift, and all he wants to do is sleep. When he pulls up to Tomlinson's house, he immediately gets pissed at the sight of all the cars out front, and he knows there’s a party going on. It’s probably people Louis met at the bar, drunks he invited over, perhaps at least one he wants to fuck. But Harry’s not in the mood for it. Not tonight.

He storms in the house, looking for Louis, and finds him grinding in the lap of some poor slob, obviously drunk and high, by the look of his far off gaze. Anger overcomes Harry, and he’s tugging Louis off before he has a moment to realize he’s come home. The reaction is immediate in Louis as he stands up and swings at Harry, though lost in his own drunken haze.

“Is that the best you got,” Harry seethes, quickly swinging around Louis and roughly grabs his wrists, trapping them behind his back. He shoves him up against the wall, and it’s all it takes for Louis to attach his lips to Harry’s throat.

“Fuck, you can do better than that,” Louis says, still kissing him, and Harry can feel how hard he is, but he’s not in the mood to fuck. Not yet, anyway. Harry pins his wrists with one hand to free up the other, gripping Louis by the neck to shove his head back against the wall.

“Fuck you, stupid prick,” he snaps, but he’s lost in his own haze. They don’t care that others are around, but Harry can hear them leaving, put off by how he and Louis are shoving at each other. Louis is fighting against the hold, but Harry knows that the other boy wants him, is aching to have him inside him.

“Get the fuck off me,” Louis is screaming in his face, but it doesn’t perturb Harry. It fuels him on instead.

“Such a little bitch for me, aren’t you?” he asks, words dark and filled with disguised lust for the other. He uses the leverage on Louis’ throat to shove his head back into the wall once more, listening to the sound of it echo despite the loud music. He drops to Louis’ center, rubbing over his cock for good measure. “Already worked up when I’m not in the mood to fuck you.”

“I’ve already been fucked tonight,” Louis seethes, and Harry’s more than pissed now but doesn’t stop stroking Louis through his clothing.

“They were no good,” Harry responds immediately, “They couldn’t fuck you like I do.”

“Too small,” Louis moans now, and Harry knows he has him where he wants. He loosens his grip on Louis’ wrists, and the response is instant.

Louis frees himself and reaches to grip Harry’s hair with one hand, the pull rough, and it aches on his scalp, while the other hand is tugging his body closer. Louis tips his head back, resting against the wall while they continue their game. There are others around, but Harry doesn’t care. He still unzips Louis pants to get his hand inside, grasping his length with his bare hand, loving the sound of Louis’ surprised moan.

“That it, fucking whore for this, aren’t you?” Harry whispers against his ear, words dark and promising. He knows Louis loves it.

“You’re an asshole,” he whispers back, rutting against Harry’s hand despite how he’s rebutting him, “Got fucked twice, and I didn’t even think of you.”

“Yes, you did,” Harry responds instantly, squeezing the other’s cock in a way that would be painful for most, but he knows Louis wants it. He always wants him. It doesn’t matter who Louis fucks. He always finds Harry last.

“Not once,” Louis argues through another moan.

His hand tightens in Harry’s hair, tugging harshly, and it frees the bun he had, giving Louis more leverage to pull. Harry groans in pain but still knows he’s getting hard from it. He releases his hand from Louis’ cock, pushes against his throat with one while rubbing the one from his cock over his lips. He’s not gentle, and he’s not kind, giving and taking what he wants.

Louis shoves against him, and Harry knows he wants the bedroom, gives them more room, but he isn’t going to give him the satisfaction of fucking him there. His hand tightens around Louis’ throat, hard enough to leave marks, and chokes him at the same time. Louis is struggling, his body fighting it as he loses air. Harry doesn’t stop, loosening the rough contact a few times to allow a breath before starting again.

“Fuck,” Louis cries out, starting to call him a name, but Harry is choking him again. It feels good to be in control, especially after a night of listening to his dick bosses tell him what to do. “Fucking hell, stop it,” Louis demands in a harsh tone, and Harry might believe it if Louis isn’t as hard as he is, thrusting against Harry’s thigh.

“Are you going to be a little bitch about it?” Harry asks, chuckling darkly as his thumb rubs over the marks he’s making, gentle despite his words, “I’m going to fuck you, my little princess.”

“No, you’re not,” Louis argues, and Harry enjoys how lost he sounds, still fighting despite his submissive body weak in Harry’s hold. He pulls Louis towards him and then shoves him into the wall, enjoying how it sounds and the gust of air that falls from Louis, as though the wind’s been knocked out. But Harry knows it’s more surprising than anything, and he likes it.

“You’ve been thinking about my cock all night,” Harry counters, “Had to rub one out while I was working, didn’t you? Especially after that pathetic fucking.”

“It was a good fuck,” Louis argues but doesn’t say Harry’s wrong about the rest, giving him a sense of satisfaction.

“Yeah?” Harry asks, his voice purposefully smooth and gentle, but he knows Louis can see through it. “No one fucks you like I do, isn’t that right, baby?”

“Fuck off,” Louis cries out when Harry’s hand finds his cock again, squeezing with no reprieve, and Harry knows he wants him, wants more of this. Nothing about tonight is going to be gentle, and they both need it.

It’s not uncommon for them to go through spells where they don’t talk for days at a time, and this is no exception. Harry’s been on a five-day run due to work scheduling him multiple double shifts in a row. He needs the job and can’t work anywhere else due to his lack of a general degree. Louis is a bartender in a similar situation, though neither ever mentions their predicament. The truth often comes out during their ferocious arguments, but right now, they’re not arguing. They both know what the other wants and easily giving in to it after days apart.

Louis probably even arranged for all the people, knowing Harry would be there, knowing it would piss him off. But Harry’s too into this to walk away now. Harry shoving Louis’ pants down to his ankles and uses his strength to press the boy against the wall. Louis is older but still lets him do what he wants, giving in despite the bite in his tone, the dark words against Harry’s push. Harry gets his pants open, not bothering undress further. There’s no need for it.

“Fuck, you’re still wet, just like a bitch in heat,” Harry seethes, feeling how his hole has been stretched with three fingers inside him, wonders how many people used him this time around. “You better be good. Better than the weak fuck I had last night.”

“Oh yeah? Bet they couldn’t ride you like I can,” Louis counters, pressing his ass back towards Harry as he fills him, causing Louis to moan instead of saying more of his harsh words.

“No, they were horrid,” Harry’s biting the back of his neck and begins to thrust quick and hard, wanting Louis to feel him everywhere. He gets a hand around Louis’ throat, tugging his head back as the other pulls on his torso, using the leverage to go deeper. He knows what Louis likes, knows what he wants after their last year of doing this.

“No one fucks you like I do,” Louis is repeating Harry’s words, but he doesn’t care at that moment, too much pleasure from being inside him once again. He gets his hand under Louis’ shirt and scapes his nails across his chest, leaving the marks he wants, claiming the boy as his own.

“Get on your knees,” Harry responds, pulling out of Louis and making him whine at the loss of contact. Harry’s pulling way and waits impatiently for Louis to obey. The other complies, and Harry glances to see that there are still people in Louis’ living room but doesn’t care what they think, moving to get down behind Louis.

“Fuck, Harry, fuck,” Louis screams as Harry’s squeezing his cock and balls, tugging and twisting around him as he guides his cock to fill him once again. It’s rough and dirty, and Harry fucks without abandon, knowing this isn’t meant to last long.

“Gonna cum when I say,” Harry groans as Louis tightens his ass around his thick length, and he fucks him harder. One hand continues to squeeze around his cock. Simultaneously, the other finds itself around his throat, clutching in opposite motions of the other hand. Louis cries out in pleasure, and Harry continues until he’s blocking his air once again. He can see how red Louis gets and shifts inside him, finding where he’ll truly feel the pleasure and doesn’t stop the assault on his body.

“Fuck, gonna now,” Louis manages to say, voice barely there with Harry’s rough movements. He strokes Louis’ cock a few times and then drops the hand to his hip. Harry angles himself, shifting to fuck him how he likes, giving him just a small amount of pleasure before stopping altogether. It’s making him whine and swear at Harry, and he smiles. “Fuck, I swear to God, you better make me cum.”

“What are you going to do if I don’t?” Harry countered, breathing raggedly from the intensity of it all. He’s still inside Louis but holding still, despite how it aches to hold like this, feeling pleasure all over his body. He’s gross and sweaty, but he knows how Louis wants this and has been gagging to be used.

“You fucking prick,” Louis is saying. Harry begins again, rougher than before, and knows he’s hurting Louis, but the other cries out in pleasure, screaming Harry’s name as he gets fucked how he needs.

“That’s it, princess. Scream my name,” Harry gasps out, so close, and reaches around to Louis’ cock, tugging and twisting. It’s all Louis needs, and he’s shooting, releasing all over the floor beneath him. Harry can’t help his own moan as Louis squeezes around him and keeps fucking him through it. He continues to tug and pull Louis’ cock as he seeks his own release, and it’s not long before he’s coming inside him, filling him as he’s been aching for.

They’re both breathing heavily, lost in the sensations and desires of what they’ve done. Harry can see the marks and imprints he’s left on Louis, knowing it’s going to be there for days, and it’s precisely what he wants. They fall beside each other on the floor, dark laughter falling from their lips as they look at each other. Harry doesn’t realize what Louis is doing before the older boy is reaching to brush his fingers through his hair. It’s a rare moment of affection that they never share.

“Fucking bitch,” Harry says softly, beyond exhausted and knows he could sleep right then and there, all the tension washed away from this.

“I’m not your princess,” Louis says quietly, but Harry knows he is.

Louis nods knowingly, and Harry stands when Louis does. Harry gets a hand in Louis’ hair and tugs him towards the bedroom, knowing he’s going to fuck him again. This time they’ll get undressed, and Louis will be tied to the bed, but it’s as it always is. They’re flawed, and it’s a vicious pairing, but neither wants to be anywhere else.


	2. Don't Let Go

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Like the warnings imply, it's a pretty toxic relationship.

It’s late when Harry checks his mail, sighing as he sees the number of notices, bills he’s not going to pay. He can’t afford to. The warehouse's job is enough to get him by for the basics, but it doesn’t pay well. The only benefit is the overtime. The time-and-a-half pay better than most places but knows it’s done to help get people in. Still, more people quit than stick around, so Harry learned quickly not to make friends.

He’s flipping through the mail Harry hasn’t touched in over a week, sighing as the letters flip through, coming across a blank envelope at the end. There’s no postage, indicating someone’s just left it in the box, and can't help but be curious. He never gets mail like this, and he doesn’t know what it could be. He hesitates before opening it, feeling uncertain that moment, despite how it always appears as though he has his shit together.

What he reads takes Harry by shock, reading the words written by a private investigator, one his father has hired. The man’s out of prison put there for the thing he’d done to his son. So much time has passed, but Harry remembers every moment, every word, every action that still imprinted upon his skin. Louis has touched the scars, some even matching his own, and Harry had ripped his hands away and ignored him for days afterward. He didn’t do it again. But at this moment, Harry can’t stop recalling where they’d come from.

He drops the letter and turns, running from the room, running from everything as he leaves the flat. Harry’s in the car and driving before he can help it, having no place to go, but has to hide from where his father has found him, his thoughts drifting to his birth mother, wondering if she’s in on it too. They’d both been locked away simultaneously, and Harry had refused to think of them since then.

He’s at Louis’ before he has time to think of how he'd gotten there, having driven for hours before the car came to a stop. Harry isn’t sure what he’s doing as he makes his way up the stoop and opens the door, knowing it would be unlocked. It’s been a few days since he was there last, but he can’t think about it, relieved to not see anyone on the couch and makes his way down to Louis’ bedroom.

He’s asleep when Harry climbs into his bed, shuffling next to him without taking off his jacket or shoes. They never do this, never share a bed, no matter how late it is, but Harry can’t stop himself from squeezing into Louis’ space, uncaring whether or not he wakes him. He rests a hand on the other’s hip, giving a squeeze, mostly to remind himself that he’s not alone at that moment. Harry doesn’t expect a response, but then Louis’ hand is hovering over his, and his eyes open with surprise to see him.

“What are you doing?” he grumbles, resting his hand over Harry’s now. Harry stares at him, gaze imploring as he struggles to think of a response.

“Don’t fucking know,” he finally says, the only response he has. His voice is weak, much too soft, but Louis isn’t pushing him away. Harry sighs and shifts until his forehead presses against Louis’ shoulder, sighing unsteadily, feeling so many emotions swarm him at that moment.

“You okay?” Louis asks, and Harry can hear the hesitance in his voice, as though he’s at much of a loss as Harry feels. A hand slides into Harry’s hair, but he’s not tugging his thick tresses like he usually does; he just rests against his head.

“No,” Harry breathes out, the most honest he’s been with Louis. He tries to think of a way to appease this moment but has nothing. He could easily just fuck Louis but can’t find the will to do such a thing. He could push him against the bed, tie him up and make him cry out and moan for Harry, but he doesn’t want it now.

“What happened?” Louis whispers, and Harry shifts his head, able to see Louis’ face even though he’s not looking at him. Much like Harry's, the wall is bare, and he wonders what Louis would put up if he even felt the urge. Harry realizes he doesn’t know. They’ve been doing this for over a year, and he knows very little about him. It’s part of the reason they’ve always worked well together. They don’t need to know anything about the other.

“I got a letter from my birth father,” he whispers, admitting the truth and has to close his eyes with it, not used to ever being this open. He clears his throat and curls into Louis’ side, breathing raggedly, as though fighting off tears, but Harry never lets himself cry.

“The one in prison?” Louis asks, and Harry’s surprised he knows. He must have said it during an argument, unable to recall the moment he told the other. His temper is awful, Harry knows that, but he never tries to control himself when upset. Louis is just as volatile, not letting Harry shove him into the wall without pushing Harry just as much.

“Yeah,” Harry whispers, and he sees Louis nod. He reaches, gripping around Louis’ side, tugging him close despite his resolve to stay still.

“The fucker wants to see me,” he hisses, growing angry as he recalls the contents of the letter, “Got some arse to write me. An investigator or some shit.”

“I’ll kill him,” Louis says softly, and Harry knows he means it. He’d kill for Louis, too, should his parents come back. Harry would do it and not bat an eye, knowing they deserved it.

“Not tonight,” Harry smiles sadly, and Louis nods knowingly. They’re both at a loss in that moment. Harry can feel how uneasy Louis feels and sighs in response. He should pull away and go home, or tie him down and fuck him like usual, but can’t find the courage to do either.

“I don’t know what to think,” Harry murmurs, tucking his face against Louis’ throat and lingering there, kissing him lazily. He thinks he could stay just like this but knows the repercussions of something so great. He starts pulling away but is surprised when Louis tugs him close again, and he sighs at the content, somehow pleased.

“He won’t hurt you again,” Louis says in a tone that’s more than just words, and Harry understands the intent. Louis would hurt the man if he did.

“I know he won’t,” Harry says gruffly, feeling tense, and pulls away then, despite the way the other reaches for him. He stares down at Louis with a harsh gaze, feeling angry all of a sudden, but knows it’s not Louis’ fault.

“Fuck me,” Louis whispers suggestively, offering Harry the distraction he seeks. However, Harry shakes his head, still hovering over Louis and his soft touch. He’s breathing heavily, the weight of it all overpowering him, and he feels lost under it. Rubbing a hand roughly over his face, he tries to make sense of it. “Fuck me,” Louis repeats, louder this time, “Fuck me like you need to. Don’t let me cum.”

“No,” Harry mutters harshly, staring at the wall above Louis’ head. Before he has the chance to move away fully, Louis reaches and punches his cheek, causing Harry to recoil, entirely taken by surprise.

“Fuck me!” Louis yells now, and Harry’s pulled out of his daze. He reaches down, his hand immediately over Louis’ throat, and he grunts at how good it feels to control his breathing.

“Don’t push me,” he demands. He tightens his grip, groaning with how Louis lays pliantly, his fists grasping his clothes as his body aches for air. Harry releases his hand for a moment and then does it again, just to remind Louis who has the power here. And it’s not him.

“Fucking prick,” Louis gasps when Harry allows him air. His chest is heaving, body fighting, but Louis still keeps his head tilted back, as though asking for more.

“Fuck!” Harry yells then, loud enough that it’s echoing the walls, and it feels good to let it out. He lets go of Louis neck and sits over his chest, and he is surprised when Louis immediately goes for his pants. He’s still fully dressed in his work uniform. The coveralls are challenging to get out of at this angle, making Harry laugh at Louis’ failed attempts.

“Dammit,” Louis mumbled, fingers reaching for the zipper but can’t from the angle. Harry isn’t letting him get there, and it feels good, better than good.

“Such a needy little whore,” he seethes, all of it rushing to his cock, and he’s growing hard with Louis’ sudden need to get fucked.

“Fuck you,” Louis responds instantly, slapping his chest when he’s not allowed to undress him as he wants. Harry reaches behind him and grabs Louis through his shorts, eyes widening that the other is fully hard and leaking. A moan falls from Louis’ lips, and Harry squeezes hard enough to make him gasp and cry out with the pressure.

“My little bitch is eager,” Harry muses, a dark chuckle leaving his lips. He strokes Louis, grip tight as he twists and squeezes around his length. “Come on, princess. Undress me. Do it!”

“I can’t,” Louis whines, hips bucking up towards his fist, and Harry continues the assault on his cock. He doesn’t stop, wanting Louis to be thoroughly desperate before he climbs off him. When Louis is finally a trembling whining mess, Harry pulls back, smiling at the sight, knowing he put him there.

Harry climbs off him then, watching and then slaps Louis’ balls when the other isn’t as eager as Harry wants him to be. Just for good measure, he hits them again, laughing at the pained groan escaping the other’s lips. He strips out of his coveralls, sighing as he drops his shorts too, becoming naked where Louis is still dressed. He climbs up over his body, straddling his chest, and brings the head of his cock to Louis’ mouth.

“Gonna fuck that mouth, princess,” he grins, feeling lighter than he expected, on a high that only Louis can fill. Louis lifts a hand to his chest, scrapes his nails over the exposed skin, and Harry cries out with the pain of it, but it’s precisely what he needs.

Louis can mark him how he likes, but it’s Harry’s that matters because Louis will fuck anything that moves, and they need to know who Louis belongs to. Harry brings his cock to Louis’ mouth fully, groaning as his warmth envelopes his length, overwhelming him. He rests a hand against the headboard, the other grasping Louis’ hair as he begins to fuck him thoroughly and roughly, taking what he needs from him.

It’s harsh and dirty, but precisely what Harry needs at that moment, letting go of everything weighing over him as Louis chokes on his cock, gagging roughly. Harry relents for just a moment before beginning again, lifting Louis’ head to a harsh angle. He moves into him more smoothly, loving how Louis’ eyes glass over, signaling that he’s enjoying this too.

“You want me to fuck you, princess?” Harry asked, breathing roughly as he pulls his cock free from Louis’ mouth. He likes the sight of his drool hanging from his length and smiles to himself, knowing it’s his control that brought Louis to that point.

“Fuck you,” he says through a hoarse voice, but his hands are grappling against Harry’s bare frame, and he knows he wants it, even though he’s still catching his breath. Harry reaches to the side table, pulls out the lube, and moves to sit against the headboard next to Louis’s pliant form.

“Good. Ride me, my little bitch,” he laughs darkly, enjoying the sight of Louis’ response.

He’s up and getting undressed before Harry has to say more, stripping away his shorts and climbs over Harry’s lap. He uses the lube to stretch himself, knowing full well that Harry isn’t going to do it, and Harry waits impatiently for him to finish. He gets a hand around Louis’ throat, squeezing and stroking his cock with the other hand until he’s moaning, writhing mess, and climbing to get to Harry’s cock.

“I hate you,” Louis says, and Harry nods his head in agreement, knowing this would be easier if they both felt that way. If they both despised each other. He knows full well that despite their quiet moment a short time before, that hate isn’t something that truly exists. Though it’s close.

“Ride me, bitch,” Harry demands, finding his hand around Louis’ throat as he slides onto his cock, causing them both to moan at the sensation. “Fuck,” Harry gasps, squeezing Louis’ neck as he doesn’t wait to begin to move, riding him hard and fast. He isn’t going to last long, but this isn’t one of their drawn-out sessions.

There are times when Harry makes Louis an actual mess, coming too many times for it to feel good, but right now, that isn't what they need. He’s not tying him down and making him tell Harry how he really feels about being dominated. Harry has what he needs at this moment. They’ll cum, and Harry will leave, going home to the place he doesn’t want to be.

Harry doesn’t think about that just then. He’s getting what he wants, choking Louis’ face until he’s red, owned by the younger man, and it’s all he wants.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Follow my tumblr and twitter for updates, sneak peeks, etc. Thanks for reading. Comments are lovely.


	3. Drywall

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not my favorite chapter, but perhaps the next section will be more appealing.

It’s dark outside when Harry enters the bar, it’s late, and he knows it’ll be closing soon, but he goes in anyway. He doesn’t know what he’ll find but comes often enough to know there’s usually some poor slab looking for a fuck, and he’s in the mood to comply. But upon entering, Harry is sorely disappointed at the sight of the near-empty establishment. He sighs and walks over to a barstool, taking a seat and glancing at Louis.

They didn’t know each other outside of the bar, but the boy was fun to look at. With his mood, Harry gets a vicious thought in his head about what he could be doing to the poor bartender. He reaches a hand down to his favorite bottle of Whiskey, knowing Louis will swat his hand away, and right now, Harry wants his attention.

“Harry, I swear,” he hears Louis yelling, and this time when he hits him, it’s hard enough to knock his hand into the edge of the counter. Harry swears loudly with the sharp pain and scowls at the smug look on Louis’ features, wanting to wipe it away. “You’re going to make me lose this fucking job,” Louis is murmuring, pouring the drink Harry wants.

“Fuck you,” Harry seethes, pouting when he’s not getting the type of attention he wants. But Louis surprises him then, a smirk present on the other’s lips when he speaks, leaning over the bar.

“You couldn’t handle me,” Louis says smoothly, leaning back and wiping down the bar. They share a gaze, and Louis is the one to break the silence, “I’m off in an hour.”

“Good. I’ll be waiting,” Harry says with a laugh, his anger dissipating at the thought of having a good fuck, and Louis has the perfect ass for it. Harry doesn’t even know how Louis likes it but knows he won’t take no for an answer when getting what he wants.

Harry leans back in the stool, a pleased smile forming at his lips, and he knows he hasn’t drunk enough yet for this. He has no intention to leave yet, knowing what’s coming home with him. He watches Louis as he works, closing down the joint. Harry can’t begin to count how many times he’s shut down the bar with Louis, but tonight is different. Tonight he’s getting something out of the late-night and more than a weak jerk before drinking himself into exhaustion.

When Louis is finally done, and Harry’s downed another few drinks. He feels the welcome buzz that follows as they leave the establishment. There’s nothing to say as they walk towards Harry’s car, and then Louis comments he’s going to take his own car, causing Harry to falter. He doesn’t want Louis to have that much say.

“No,” he says, tone clip and short. He turns to face the other, looking him over dangerously before walking up to him and grips his hip. “You’re coming with me,” he says in a low tone, and to his surprise, Louis nods in agreement.

Harry opens the door for Louis, watching him get in before moving around to the driver’s seat. His apartment isn’t far from the bar, a strategy he uses often when finding someone to take home, but he feels it, somehow tonight is different. Louis is his favorite bartender, and there’s something that has his breath catching with anticipation. When they arrive at Harry’s street, he parks in front of the entrance and turns to look at Louis, who opens his mouth to speak. Since Harry doesn’t care what he has to say, he reaches and tugs Louis’ mouth close with a grip around his neck. The kiss isn’t soft and caring but dark and desperate, clutching at the deepest desires he rarely accesses.

“You’re going to get undressed as soon as we get inside,” he says in a firm tone, nipping at his bottom lip and giving a good tug as he pulls away. Harry watches to see what Louis will do or say about it all. Instead of speaking, Louis gives the nod, his desires swimming in his deep orbs, and it’s all Harry needs as confirmation.

Harry leads Louis to the entrance of his flat and it’s as he instructed, Louis stripping away his clothing before the door has even shut all the way. It’s nice that way, allowing Harry to see all his soft curves and breathtaking figure. It’s giving him ideas for all the ways he can mark him up and remind him of their time together.

Deep down Harry wonders if he should do this at all, losing his favorite bar if Louis goes off and cries about how harsh Harry is, but at that moment, he doesn’t care. He kicks off his shoes instead and walks towards the naked male in front of him, his cock limp but it won’t be for long, able to see how eager the boy in front of him is.

“You want this?” Harry asks curiously, dragging a short nail up along his soft length, smiling when he feels him twitch with interest. It’s curious, wondering how many times Louis had been used as he clearly needs to be. “You want me to use you. Take advantage of your body?”

“Just fucking get on with it,” Louis snaps, causing Harry to startle and release a bit of laughter. Without a thought, his hand is at Louis’ throat, not squeezing but pulling the other towards him, holding him close.

“Here’s how it’s going to work, my princess,” he seethes but softens slightly with the realization that Louis isn’t fighting against the hold. He’s welcoming his touch on his throat and isn’t pushing him off. “Funny little thing, aren’t you?” Harry’s laughing now and begins to squeeze then, tugging his body even closer and reaches with his free hand to slap at Louis cock.

“Fuck you,” Louis says the words, but Harry knows he has him now, right where he needs to be, “ _Fuck_.”

“No, no, no,” Harry’s voice grows soft and soothing, though tightens the grip around his throat, cutting off the air completely.

This time Louis clearly responds, reaching and grasping at Harry’s clothes. He helps Louis to his knees, keeping the grip tight, loosening for a few seconds of air, and then tightens once more. “That’s it, princess, give in to me,” he whispers, his free hand soothing through Louis’ hair to keep him steady before dropping his hand away from his throat altogether.

“Fucking hell,” he rasps, and Harry laughs at the rough sound, feeling on a high, knowing it was he who had put him in this position. He doesn’t try to climb up from his knees, but a glance shows that Louis is fully hard and Harry likes this more than he can say.

“What’s the matter?” Harry asks, moving a toe to graze over his hard length, not giving him any substantial relief or awareness of what is happening next.

“I’m not your princess,” he groans, hips thrusting against Harry’s barely there touch and it causes Harry to laugh even more. He reaches to Louis’ hair, gripping the locks in an impossibly tight hold that causes his fingers to ache, but he doesn’t lessen the grasp.

“Then you’re my little bitch tonight,” he sneers, “So you choose. Are you my princess or my eager bitch?” His free hand reaches to his pants, unzipping as he speaks, already hard from fucking with Louis like this and how the other is willingly taking it all.

“Prick,” Louis says weakly like he wants to sound firm, but Harry isn’t giving it to him. He tilts his head back and cowers over the bartender, his hips coming close, and his hard cock bounces against the underside of his chin. Louis opens his mouth as though wanting it, and it causes Harry to groan in response, more than turned on and ready to be inside him already.

“Choose,” he says firmly, still not giving him what he wants, even though Harry is so ready for it. “Be a good princess and tell me what you are tonight. Who do you belong to?” The words are dark and etched with Harry’s demons, but he can’t stop himself.

“Your bitch, _fuck_ ,” Louis seethes, struggling against the grip in his hair, but now Harry uses it to guide Louis’ mouth to his cock.

“That’s right,” Harry groans, loving how the eager mouth is swallowing around him, and he can’t think about much else. “Good fucking bitch,” he gasps, unable to control himself as he slides further into Louis’ mouth, using him just like a needy hole.

The entire thing is fucked up entirely and Harry knows how wrong it is to take advantage of Louis and when he kicks him out later on in the night, there’s an edge of guilt about it all. But when Louis shows up the next night and then the one after, he doesn’t stop him from coming in and doesn’t feel guilty when he kicks him out each time they fuck. It’s the start of something Harry doesn’t see coming, and even as time passes, he doesn’t try to decipher the meaning of it all. It just is.


End file.
